Home Sweet Home  One of a Kind
by Vanessa S. Quest
Summary: A profiler can tell a lot about a person from their home, but only one home makes Aaron want to know a person even more intimately.


To a professional profiler, where a person takes root and lives, how they put things away, what they put away, what they keep and what they discard speaks volumes of what that person is like on the inside. That said, there was a great amount of irony that the supposed homes of BAU members tended to be as sparse as the hotels they'd spend a week to a month at, themselves. Even though the homey features were slightly less dominating because of the occupational hazard of traveling for the job, that didn't mean the profilers were immune to showing their own souls in their homes.

Garcia for instance, though technically not a profiler, spent the most time at her home. She had everything laid out in a slightly peculiar and very particular way. You wouldn't know that if you only went to her place once, but if you moved something casually, the next time you come back, it would be where it was originally just supposed to be. Knickknacks, photos, feathery pens, even fashionable nail-clippers that looked like a noir French actress or scrub-brush that was designed to look like a woman with blond hair clearly had places in which they belonged and were stored. Most people would see it as chaotic, but each thing had a place and a purpose, the urge to bring bright colors into every dimension, every view was a clear coping mechanism to keep the dark out in Penelope's home, even the cul-de-sac read of a protection mechanism.

Rossi's personality was much more warped if one made the same comparison. He also ran a touch more egocentric. His bookshelves were mostly ornate, one of each book he ever wrote proudly displayed behind a glass case, but some research books were stored in his plush office. It screamed comfort and money. More specifically, it screamed new money. Bells-and-whistles objects were all about the place, and nothing old or antique could be found except for the bar of course, all of which proving he had fought to earn his trinkets. Even trinkets you'd think he wouldn't want to display anymore had their place. Dave had a wall of shame, or at least that's what Hotch thought of it as, to Dave it was just a friendly reminder of why to stay single. All of his wedding photos hung up there, well kept and maintained. He even had a photo of each bride from during their time together outside the wedding, and then, next to that, the framed divorce papers and settlements. It made Hotch realize why Dave hadn't remarried after almost five years of being single again.

Prentiss's place, while it also screamed money, clearly read old money. The styles didn't clash nor did they overlap within a single area. Her closet of designers was extensive, and beyond having antique furniture with a mix of nearly brand-new couches, bed, and technology, the place was almost Spartan. She did not decorate with family photos. She had elegant, clean artwork and photos of cities around the world that she'd been, not famous prints, but originals from artists she'd personally tracked down. Her kitchen had the high-end appliances and dishes, and she didn't store away the good china, she used them. Real china, the thin bone-plates so hard to get anywhere without at least one grand going into a set, not like hers were the cheaper ones. Her apartment had a cast-iron spiral staircase, a small quirk that she obviously chose for when she moved. Emily's home didn't tell of struggles, it told of intricate ways to store and look at things. It was obvious that she did her best thinking when she put away what she didn't need or want at a moment, but that she would use what was dealt to her and not carry extra baggage either. That's what her place told of.

Morgan's place told of a man who preferred comfort, relaxation, and friendly vibes. He wasn't nearly as guarded as the others. In fact, his place was downright inviting. His DVD cases were kept neat but not in any strict order, it was vaguely alphabetical but there were DVDs switched here and there as he used them. His one couch was worn in a little in the front with dog-hair imbedded from where Clooney would take over. He had a couple of beers in the fridge, a somewhat stocked set of cabinets, mostly Ikea furniture, jersey-sheets on the bed, and dry-wall dust in the corners that obviously traveled in when he did home-improvements. His garage had a work-shop in it for cutting molding and it was obvious from looking at the place that Derek focused on self improvement and hospitality. A striving man who always wanted to make things better for himself and others, that was the warmth that radiated through Derek's home and it fit his personality. His place lived up to what profiling a home was supposed to do, it gave hidden insights to a personality that are often masked a bit by outer appearances.

To be fair, Hotch's place was harder to profile just for himself. A lot of it had been Haley's design and some of those things that he hated had to stay to keep his son comfortable. Aaron's home wasn't utilitarian, though his apartment had been. His home was full of warm things that he wanted to protect. Memories, smiles, a sense of history and a sense of reason… His place told of a tired adult who didn't have the ability to give his all to his son and THEN clean up the toys, but if he was going to skimp on any of those it would be the clean-up. The home had kid-friendly overtures, his office was work at the top, fun at the bottom, his bookshelves top three shelves were dedicated to work-related materials, his cabinets were locked and filled with back-up files. It was clear he was the sort to take the job home, but he didn't let it consume him. The bottom shelves were dedicated to things Jack could get into safely. He had books to read, books to be read to him, and then photo albums and yearbooks. His place had a lived-in feel, and was a lively home, but to Hotch it screamed appearances, after all, that had been Haley's preference to keep up with the Joneses.

While Hotch knew each of his agents places told volumes of them, he couldn't help but think that Reid's… that his lover Spencer's place did anything less but scream of who he was, what he'd order for dinner, and where you could find him walking at 9PM.

Reid's apartment was a walk-up brown-stone built in the college-town part of the city. There was a rich history to the area, easy access to public transport, and a microverse of things he'd need within a five block radius. The man had probably set out to apartment hunt similarly to how he'd do a geographic profile to track down an unsub, marking known hunting grounds of his, needs, and then filling in the demographics to come out with a winning formula of where to find a place to stay. Compared to Emily's hunt for an architectural element like an upstairs with spiral-staircase access, Spencer's efforts were astounding. After all, Emily could have just gutted the apartment to have one put in, it wasn't beyond her means. Inside Spencer's apartment was an old-world feel. Mish-mashed antiques with large, clunky elements to them, a real weight to them, made Aaron wonder how the hell he moved in by himself. There was no way the young genius could've moved this all off a van without assistance. He'd have to have hired some people, he supposed. It hardly mattered, Spencer wouldn't need to _hire_ help moving again, he had the BAU to ask. The bulky antiques, while they were about the same in cost as modern furnishings, thanks to being a bit beaten up and uncared for, had a richer feeling of character. These weren't mass-produced, these were unique structures. Each one of a kind. In fact, everything in Spencer's home was one of a kind. His bookshelves weren't functional and need-only like Aaron's. They sure as hell weren't ornate or decoration-only like Dave's either. And orderly? Hardly. Derek's slightly out of spec DVD towers put Spencer's to shame, and Penelope's ability to find the exact spot a knickknack went in put Spencer to shame. The young agent might not have an exact spot for everything, but he never forgot where something was. And even though it was odd to find coffee mugs on top of an end-table in the living room, it made sense that Spencer would think to go for a coffee cup so he could read a book, so it oddly had an order of need-based use. Even the paint colors told a story, calming colors in his 'personal' areas, the 'public' areas were rich and earthy, not like Spencer had many people over. No, if Aaron would describe Spencer from his place it would either be eclectic genius, eccentric prodigy, or one of a kind. All of those fit him perfectly though.

Aaron came out of Spencer's bathroom, still trying to develop the connection between glasses-case and toothbrush had while returning to his lover's side.

"Well, I wouldn't want to forget my toothbrush at home when we go on a case." Spencer explained to Aaron as he smiled into his lover's shoulder.

"Spencer, have you ever forgotten _anything_ let alone your toothbrush on a case?"

Spencer blushed, "Alright, fine. I'll start organizing using more normal methods."

"Good… because Jack's particular about that sort of thing."

Spencer smiled, "So when are we going to go house-hunting?" He draped arms around Aaron as the older agent took off his glasses for him, putting them into the case and setting them on his bed-stand before pulling them both onto the large bed.

"Hmm, we can contact a realtor in the morning and probably schedule to do it after work sometime this week." The two men set deep kisses into motion. "We'll have to discuss who's furniture will go in which room."

"We have to know what the rooms look like first. What school district do you want Jack to be in?"

Aaron laughed a little into Spencer's neck, already imagining his whipping out the expo markers to trace the outlines of acceptable areas.

"I love you, you know that, right?"

"I'd better. I've lived here for eight years and now I'm moving. I'm never going to find a place with this cheap of a rent if I have to move out."

"Not going to happen." Aaron kissed Spencer again, "Besides, it would be strange if you moved out."

"Oh really? And why is that, Aaron?" Spencer smiled playfully.

"…Well, if you're more of a traditionalist, I can see why you might."

"Traditionalist…? Aaron, what are you talking about?" Spencer started to sit up.

"Spencer, marry me?"

Spencer didn't answer yes, he pulled Aaron tightly into a fierce kiss, clacking their teeth together at first before easing into a deep, passionate, but slightly less gnashing of an embrace and kiss. His hands disengaged from locking Aaron's cheeks to pull him in close, and instead wrapped around his shoulders around his back pulling him closer into the embrace as even his legs twined with his lover's. Aaron couldn't help but think of a spider gracefully walking up and down it's web, or a graceful contortionist making himself into a pretzel, but this was by far the best combination of those two slightly disturbing thoughts together.

"I didn't even show you the ring yet, Spencer…"

Spencer bit his neck, "No talking now, busy saying yes with body."

Spencer's home might be one of a kind, but Aaron would be happy to make their hearts two of a kind. Besides, Spencer was finally coming home to _their_ home.

End.


End file.
